


Repentance of the Masked Gentleman

by Detective_Mew_Dia



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: M/M, My First Fanfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 09:26:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18989887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Detective_Mew_Dia/pseuds/Detective_Mew_Dia
Summary: As time draws closer to the anniversary of Randall's return, Angela makes a shocking announcement, leaving Randall dismayed and lost. Henry tries to cheer him up, but it leads Randall to realizing new feelings. The masked gentleman returns to Monte d'Or and Henry, while in denial, does his best to juggle too many tasks.





	1. In Which Angela Stops Living for the Dead

A bundle of roses, a bouquet of irises, and a jovial whistle, paraded their way through the kitchen and towards the sink. Quickly, Angela deposited her empty mug and stepped aside to allow Randall through. 

“These are for my mother,” He dumped the purple bouquet into the sink, “and these are for you!” He kissed Angela’s cheek as he transferred the roses into his girlfriend’s arms. He reached for two vases in the cupboard above the sink and filled them with water. 

“They’re lovely, Randall, thank you.”

“I eyed them up in the shop on the way home and I knew you’d just adore them! Yellow seems to bring up your mood these days.” Randall beamed, then handed Angela one vase, while he transferred the irises from the sink into the second vase, rolling off the wrapper first. Angela mimicked with her roses. As she fussed with the arrangement she was reminded of Professor Layton’s assistant in the smart yellow dress. Randall placed his finished vase in the dining room. 

“Randy?”

“Yes?” He called on his way back from the dining room.

“I want to travel.” She frowned and drew her hand away as Randall reached towards it.

“A vacation? I suppose we could more than afford it. We received a flier in the mail advertising San Grio, but I suppose it’s touristy enough here, maybe you’d rather go somewhere more secluded and romantic? Personally, I’d like to visit a ski resort. It never snowed in Craggy Dale, being a desert and all, and I doubt we’ll ever get any here either. Should we invite Henry? I’d love to see him on a pair of skis, but I don’t want him to feel like a third wheel, and it’s been so long since just the two of us have done anything romantic, and you do seem a little distant lately.”

“That’s not quite what I meant.” She tried to delicately guide his attention in another direction, but getting a word in edgewise proved difficult. 

“Oh?” He paused to think for a moment and tapped his chin, “That’s wonderful, Angie! I won’t have to be alone on my archeology expeditions. We’ll make a marvelous duo!” Randall’s grin ignored the frown that still adorned Angela’s face, “I won’t be ready to start until I catch up in the current information in the field, but I can begin showing you techniques for cleaning up artifacts tomorrow if you can spare some time and we must take a shopping trip to get you a new set of suitcases and some suitable clothing.” 

“You’re not listening, Randy.”

“I know you’re particular about your hair, but I’d recommend wearing-” 

“Randall! Must I remind you that I lost my brother to an excavation?” Angela interrupted, “And although you’ve returned I continue to have nightmares about your disappearance!” 

“Just what are you suggesting, then?” Randall huffed, troubled by Angela’s bitter tone, “Leaving me? Was I not worth waiting eighteen years for?” 

“I can’t believe you!” Angela snapped back, the first tear plunged down her cheek, “We adore you, Randall, but you’re so self-centered. I could never regret waiting for you.” Her voice softened on her last remark.

“I’m sorry, Angie. Please, I want to understand.” He bit his lower lip and eased his voice and himself onto the fancy tiled floor and invited Angela to join him with a pat. 

She obliged. 

“I should have been here for you all along,” Randall shook his head. “Go on. I want to hear about the storms in your mind.” 

Angela borrowed a few minutes to assemble her thoughts and quell her tears before speaking. With a heavy breath she began, “When you disappeared, everyone around me seemed to channel their sadness into something wonderful, but my depression and anxiety consumed me entirely. I stagnated while Hershel became a professor of archeology, despite my chasing him out of town, and Henry built a city from mere grains of sand.” Her words quaked. Randall rubbed her back supportively. 

“You’re more than enough as you are. I didn’t need you to build me a city or any of that. Your strength alone is astounding.” With his free hand, Randall picked at the edge of the floor mat and found a hint coin underneath. He fidgeted with it between his thumb and forefinger.

“My strength was not solely my own. Bless Henry’s heart, without him, surely I wouldn’t have carried on. There were times I remembered my brother, and I knew beyond a doubt that Henry’s conviction was delusional, but he was willing to lead his whole life, even unto death if necessary, believing in your return.”

As it became Randall’s turn to speak, Angela absentmindedly took the warm metal piece from Randall and began playing with it herself.

“It may have been more difficult for you to find faith, but you don’t lend yourself enough credit. Your struggle adds that much more value to your sacrifice. After all, even puzzles are more significant after a bit of strife.” Randall smiled in encouragement.

“I was living for the dead, Randall. My mother thought a marriage would help me move on, but Henry... You’re all he thought about. Moving on was wrong, but dwelling on the past was depressing.” She accidentally dropped the coin and Randall leaned over and retrieved it, holding it out to her in his open palm. She took it.

“So you want to travel?”

She squeezed the coin in her fist, “Yes. I want to travel, and I want to break up.”

Randall didn’t speak. 

“Do you understand?” Worry clouded Angela’s face as she shifted on the floor to look into Randall’s sad eyes. 

“Have you fallen for Henry?”

“You’re such a dense clod,” Angela laughed flatly. “He’s dear to me as you are. You’re both family to me, but I’ve come to realize my feelings simply aren’t romantic towards either of you. I want to discover what love means to me.”

“We have been together since we were young,” Randall breathed, “So how were you to know different sorts of love if you were never aloud to explore it, right?” He looks towards the fridge, avoiding Angela’s eyes.

“Thank you,” Angela sighed as she ironed out the worry from her eyebrows. They simmered in silence for several minutes before Angela handed Randall the hint coin and spoke again. “I promise not to leave until after the anniversary of your return. Have you told Henry what sort of celebration you’d like?” She decidedly changed the subject.

Randall pocketed the coin.

“He already had the Reunion Inn booked for the event practically since the day of my return,” Randall chuckled forcefully, “I fear he’s asking me out of courtesy, and he’s filled his head with other ideas. He didn’t take well to my Masked Ball idea. It’s disrespectful he says.”

“Attention to detail is just one way he shows his love, you know.” A soft expression fitted to her visage, coupled with a reminiscent smile, “He’s dreamed of doting on you and he’s finally got his chance.” 

“You certainly were telling the truth when you said you knew nothing about love.” Randall’s laugh rung out genuinely this time. 

“Surely you’ve noticed? He’s smitten. Founding this city in commitment to you is the wildest romantic gesture I’ve ever bore witness to. He spent so much time on the detail, rumor had it that our marriage was falling apart because he was never home. Of course, he never expected you to reciprocate,” Angela grinned as she recounted Henry’s diligence. 

“You’re kidding,” Randall stood with a smirk, reaching out to help Angela up. 

“No such luck, I’m afraid. He’s been in love with you since before I even agreed to fake a marriage with him.”

“Hmm, I believe you’re mistaken, Angie dearest. I’d even wager a cake from Cesari’s that you’re dead wrong.”

“I’ll take that bet.” 

They shook on it.


	2. In which Henry Writes a Letter

“Angela will return to you after her trip, with her feelings for you multiplied tenfold.” Henry signed another paper and brushed it to the side before looking up at Randall, who stood with his hands on his hips after recounting his breakup.

“Zero times ten is still zero, Henry! I thought after so many years of toil, we’d finally get to live happily ever after.” 

“Would you please sit down, Master Randall? How about a cup of tea soothe your nerves?” A chair had been previously pulled from the sitting area to face the desk. Henry half-stood before Randall shook his head and plunged into the available chair with a huff. 

Randall eyed the bottle of brandy behind Henry’s desk. 

“That’s no way to coup,” Henry scolded, his attention now entirely removed from his work.

“I want her to be happy, but it never crossed my mind that her happiness might not romantically involve me.”

“Me, neither,” Henry admitted, “Which is why I have full confidence that she shall come back to you in due time.” 

“I won’t delude myself with false hope and I’ll never fall in love again!” Randall swore and displaced the chair as he stood back up. The yellow leather seat produced a dull thud as it hit the tile.

Henry dispatched himself from his desk station and found himself at Randall’s side, serious despite the obvious dramatics.

“Master Randall, your frustration is just, but it’s late and perhaps it would be best to have a cup of tea and sleep on it. Allow me to prepare some.” Henry righted the chair and pulled it back to its proper position by the coffee table. He gestured for Randall to sit down. 

Randall bit the inside of his cheek, but sat down, “Biscuits too?” 

“I picked up a new tin earlier this week.” 

While he waited for the kettle to heat, Henry took down a box of black tea, rationalizing that a dose of caffeine would help him to push through the remainder of his work. After a moment he thought better of it and returned the box to the cupboard in exchange for a can of chamomile mint, for master Randall’s sake. He found the tin of biscuits in the pantry and straightened out the rug by the sink before attending to the stove. 

One of the teacups trembled as Henry balanced his way back to his study. He paused before the door to set the teacup into its place and heard muffled arguing. “It’s a good thing I set an extra cup,” Henry entered the room. He placed the tray onto the coffee table.

“Henry! I’m sorry for entering your study uninvited, I just...” Angela tugged at the shawl she often wore on colder evenings. 

Randall ignored Henry and continued his point, “I am aloud to talk to Henry as I please and I am not a hypocrite! Archeology is a career, travelling is not.”

Henry listened as he set three places around the coffee table, then sat to join his friends. 

“Of course you can talk to Henry, but I should have been the one to tell him. And you know archeology is dangerous! It claimed my brother and years off your life. When we were young, you promised that your trip to Akbadain would be your last and greatest expedition.”

“Henry only made me promise that so you’d stop crying. I can’t help what I love.”

As the argument bounced like a game of badminton, Henry did his best to deduce the score. This wasn’t the first time Randall talked of turning to Archeology, “If I might interject, how do you plan to convince other experts take you seriously? Without any formal schooling, surely no one will find your work credible.”

“Et tu, Henry? You used to love listening to my theories,” Randall broke a ginger biscuit in half and then in half again,effectively creating a crumbled mess, “But you do suggest a sound point. I can fund my own expeditions with our fortune, and if I come across any discoveries, surely Hershel will take a look and validate my findings.”

“Very well.” Henry held back his discontempt and picked up his teacup, “If you aspire to go on expeditions, Angela should also do as she wishes, yes?”

“Absolutely. I adore Angela and she should be happy, but I can’t simply ignore these feelings,” Randall copied Henry with his teacup, “I was only venting, but I matter too, don’t I?”

“I didn’t mean to imply that you didn’t, Master Randall.”

“You’re a little off the mark, Henry dear. This all started because Randall told you I was leaving, without my permission. Everything just escalated into old battles from there.” 

“I see. No need to be anxious, Angela,” Henry smiled to assure her, “I will simply wait for you with open arms, as I did for master Randall. You will always have a place in this home.” He finished his cup and clicked it back into the saucer. 

“I should have known better,” Angela giggled, “You’re never worried for yourself. I can only hope Randall will take good care of you in my absence.”

“Henry doesn’t need a watchdog. Under his guard Monte d’Or will stay steadfast.” 

“May you both find the treasure you seek in your travels.” Though the thought of both his friends leaving pricked at his heart, Henry smiled.

The three turned to a more hearty conversation after that, and finished off their tea and biscuits in a jovial mood. Henry set Randall and Angela off to bed, then cleaned up before returning to his desk. In order to finish his work, Henry pulled an all-nighter. 

After he stretched and took a trip to the restroom, he decided that mopping the tile in the parlor would relieve some stress before breakfast. On his way, Henry stumbled over Randall’s sprawled legs in the green carpeted hallway. He bit off a curse, steadied himself, and set his bucket and mop aside, then kneeled to attend to the face-down figure.

“I can’t go on like this.” 

“She’s not leaving forever. You’ll have your share of adventures.” Henry resisted the urge to stroke Randall’s hair. It looked greasy, but that didn’t stop Henry from craving physical contact. 

“But my poor mother will never see me walk down the aisle.” Randall whined and smacked his head on the carpet for extra measure, “Isn’t it every mother’s wish to see her son happily married?”

“You’re not going to win back her heart acting like this.”

“I’m not going to win back her heart at all! I’m going to grow old and bitter and when I die people will spread my tale as a cautionary lesson, ‘the old man who gave away his heart!’”

“Is it really that important to have your love reciprocated?” Henry’s already soft voice grew so quiet it almost snuffed out like a candle.

Randall turned his head to stare at Henry. 

Henry cleared his throat and held out his hand to help Randall up, “Go clean yourself up and when you’ve finished, I’ll have breakfast ready.” 

Randall laid still, “Do you not know what it’s like for your heart to burn out of your chest?”

“Of course. As the moon inspires the tides.” Henry waxed poetic, “What do you think keeps me working on long nights?”

“Alphonse Dalston?” Randall shot up, coming face-to-face with Henry.

“Dalston?” Henry blinked. Despite Randall’s morning breath, the close proximity of his face dusted Henry’s cheeks with a faint blush. 

“Yes, the pieces are all fitting together now! When we were kids you were a bit of a crybaby, and I thought it was strange how you grew up to be so competitive. But that’s your way of getting him to notice you, isn’t it? The property war? Why, I wouldn’t be worried about reciprocation if I were you, Henry! All those years of him picking on you are starting to sound more like pigtail-pulling to me! You should tell him! No risk, no glory, after all~” 

“Master Randall, that’s not —“

“Your secret is safe with me, Henry!” Randall bounced up from the floor, “And there’s a chance Angela may pick up a cake for me today.”

Although Randall had supposedly made up with Angela, for the following two weeks, he serpentined between lamenting his breakup and trying to find evidence of Henry’s crush on Dalston. Henry grew so exhausted of Randall’s behavior that he wanted to bop that idiot on the head and proclaim, “Stop your ludicrous search and actually look at me, damn it! My heart beats for you!” but since Randall was still in love with Angela, he was sure only more drama could come of such a bold declaration. Henry was not the type to speak unnecessarily. Although, Randall’s forlorn face pulled at his heart strings, and he eventually concluded that something must be done. 

“Thank you for your help today, Mordaunt. I think I’ll spend some time in my private office, if you’d like to retire for the night.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Ledore. The preparations for your upcoming masked ball seem to be running smoothly, but I think I’ll check up on an order form before I retire. Be sure to take care of yourself.”

“I will. Good night.” Henry escaped behind the door of his private office in the Reunion Inn. He clicked on the light. The disarray of papers and old journals pertaining to Randall had collected dust since his last visit. Henry felt no need to study them as Randall had finally returned, but Mr. Ledore still came for papers in city planning, and to visit his toy robot. The room reflected his feelings for Randall well; sincere, ardent, and flustered. He cleared some space at the desk and perched on the edge of the wood chair. 

“Hello.” He addressed the toy robot, then took a leaf of paper and a fountain pen from the drawer. 

“Just like writing a business letter.” He told himself, but nevertheless his hands quivered. One word on the page and he loosened his necktie. Two words down and two top shirt buttons went with them. Three words and he crumpled the sheet and paced a quick circle around the room. He snapped up an old journal and a thesaurus on his way back around. As he rooted himself back in the chair, Henry dragged a hand through his sweaty hair. “Just a business letter.” He began again. 

When he was satisfied with his letter he bit his lip, held his breath, and glared at the empty space at the bottom of the page. “Must I?” The written proof of his feelings heaped into a clot on his mind and he turned again to his robot companion, “By setting my hand to this letter am I only signing away my friendship? My gestures will no longer seem selfless, but in his suffering it’s important to show him he’s loved.” Henry muttered to the robot and tapped his heel rapidly against the floor. 

“Perhaps I don’t sign it at all,” he joked, then considered it seriously, “Perhaps I can cheer him up without exposing myself. If Randall hasn’t been able to decipher my feelings yet, then he’ll be too blind to identify me as the author.” Henry smiled at the robot, then folded the letter with precision, his cheeks burning as he remembered the contents. He slid it into an envelope and sealed it with a generic wax stamp. As he penned Randall’s name onto the front in cursive, he formulated a plan to place it onto the porch for Randall to find alongside the newspaper in the morning. 

“Goodnight.” He thanked his robot confidant before shutting off the lights and exiting the office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was a bit inspired by Misinterpreted by Kirbapy, but I do hope that I did things differently enough that it's my own piece. 
> 
> Just a little nit-picky thing: I was debating on if the Ledore household had servants or not, because Henry mentions in a cutscene that he'd never have servants wait on an old friend, implying that they have some, but we never see them in-game. I think if they had servants/wait staff in-game, then they'd discover quickly that Angela and Henry weren't really married, and since Henry was a butler in training at 17 years old, I think that he values hard work and it keeps him grounded, so I decided that if they do have any, they make very little use of them.
> 
> I have cosplay to work on, so I probably wont update for awhile, but we'll see!!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing a fanfic so please be patient while I get my sea legs haha~ I'm honestly not sure what tags to put on this?  
> I'm thinking there might be around eight chapters, but we'll see.  
> Sorry this chapter doesn't have a lot of henran. I always thought that in-game Angela didn’t have enough of a life of her own, so I wanted to focus my first chapter on bringing her one. Like what are her interests beyond her relationship with Henry and/or Randall? It talks about her parents and dead brother, but doesn’t go in depth about how that affects her beyond her worry for Randall. I hope it doesn’t seem like I’m breaking them up for HenRan.


End file.
